This was a writing prompt offered by The Telling Room in Portland, Maine for this year's writing contest.
Here are some of the responses:
Girl 235
That awkward moment when a three year old almost impales your head with a paint brush.
It was in that moment that I realized how short life is. How everything I’m facing right now will someday be a part of my past. There is good out there. Somewhere, someday I’ll find consistent happiness, and that might be enough to push me through this. Searching for happiness is like trying to see through a thick of fog, impossible. Happiness has to find me. It might not be right now but it has to happen, eventually.
I used to sleep at night. I got my necessary 8 hours on a regular basis. I couldn’t tell you when this changed but I know it was fairly recent. I slept peacefully during the worst few years of my life. In the midst of my fathers issues, my stepmothers problems, and my mothers chaos, I could still manage to rest. The change, I believe, came when I realized that no one was going to save me.
Growing up is a slow process, but there does come a day when you wake up and realize that nothing is going to be the same from that point on. No one is going to bail you out, tie your shoes, or even necessarily support you when you think you need it the most. The decisions you make are entirely up to you, because lets face it, if you really want to do something your parents aren’t going to stop you.
Though I wish like hell I could hold you tight, refuse to let you go, I can’t. Despite every instinct telling me to hold on I’m learning to let go. Persistence can only get you so far. My biggest struggle is accepting that in any situation my feelings could be completely different then everyone else’s. The trick is to stop making myself vulnerable, no matter how far I think it could get me.
Girl 235
I don't have to search for Maine. It's right here, no matter how hard I try to escape it. Everything from the miles of woods that surround my house, to the overpowering smell of salt that consumes you while you're standing on the beach/ I don't have to search for the latest small town gossip. I don't have to strain my eyes to see how many people attend every high school basketball game.
Searching for Maine is easy. Searching for me, in Maine, is the hard part. How do you find yourself in a town that would love to judge every move you make? When the closest "nightlife" is an hour away. How do you search for yourself in a world so set in its ways that people have forgotten how important "diversity" is? How do you create yourself when you have two months to earn most of your money? When grown men consider high school their "glory days" and being a sports star n high school can boost your popularity for life.
I don't have to search for Maine, I have to fight to escape it. I don't want to find it, I'm looking for a way to survive it.
Searching for Maine. Searching for me.
Search for me in my dreams, where the day never fades to night. Find me there under the tree of my life, That is where I will be hiding away.
Search for me in the fields of green, under the trees of hope and despair. Find me in my own little world, filled with light and dark.
Some people say dreams do not come true. I dream of being found, I dream of hope and love. Someone has found me, And they found that too.
I have been searching for Maine, it's a never ending struggle. Maine is not something you find, It is something you feel and believe in.
Maine is a home. Maine is an accent. Maine is so many things, but to me it's everything I hate.
This was a writing prompt offered by The Telling Room in Portland, Maine for this year's writing contest.
Here are some of the responses:
Girl 235
That awkward moment when a three year old almost impales your head with a paint brush.
It was in that moment that I realized how short life is. How everything I’m facing right now will someday be a part of my past. There is good out there. Somewhere, someday I’ll find consistent happiness, and that might be enough to push me through this. Searching for happiness is like trying to see through a thick of fog, impossible. Happiness has to find me. It might not be right now but it has to happen, eventually.
I used to sleep at night. I got my necessary 8 hours on a regular basis. I couldn’t tell you when this changed but I know it was fairly recent. I slept peacefully during the worst few years of my life. In the midst of my fathers issues, my stepmothers problems, and my mothers chaos, I could still manage to rest. The change, I believe, came when I realized that no one was going to save me.
Growing up is a slow process, but there does come a day when you wake up and realize that nothing is going to be the same from that point on. No one is going to bail you out, tie your shoes, or even necessarily support you when you think you need it the most. The decisions you make are entirely up to you, because lets face it, if you really want to do something your parents aren’t going to stop you.
Though I wish like hell I could hold you tight, refuse to let you go, I can’t. Despite every instinct telling me to hold on I’m learning to let go. Persistence can only get you so far. My biggest struggle is accepting that in any situation my feelings could be completely different then everyone else’s. The trick is to stop making myself vulnerable, no matter how far I think it could get me.
Girl 235
I don't have to search for Maine. It's right here, no matter how hard I try to escape it. Everything from the miles of woods that surround my house, to the overpowering smell of salt that consumes you while you're standing on the beach/ I don't have to search for the latest small town gossip. I don't have to strain my eyes to see how many people attend every high school basketball game.
Searching for Maine is easy. Searching for me, in Maine, is the hard part. How do you find yourself in a town that would love to judge every move you make? When the closest "nightlife" is an hour away. How do you search for yourself in a world so set in its ways that people have forgotten how important "diversity" is? How do you create yourself when you have two months to earn most of your money? When grown men consider high school their "glory days" and being a sports star n high school can boost your popularity for life.
I don't have to search for Maine, I have to fight to escape it. I don't want to find it, I'm looking for a way to survive it.
Searching for Maine. Searching for me.
Search for me in my dreams,
where the day never fades to night.
Find me there under the tree of my life,
That is where I will be hiding away.
Search for me in the fields of green,
under the trees of hope and despair.
Find me in my own little world,
filled with light and dark.
Some people say dreams do not come true.
I dream of being found, I dream of hope and love.
Someone has found me,
And they found that too.
I have been searching for Maine,
it's a never ending struggle.
Maine is not something you find,
It is something you feel and believe in.
Maine is a home.
Maine is an accent.
Maine is so many things,
but to me it's everything I hate.